


Mary's Chance

by AmmoHasTooManyFandoms



Series: Soz Sam... [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: And has a seizure but hey, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mary Winchester finally gets to mother her boys, Mary Winchester is a good mom, Motherly moments, Oh, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Sam pukes a lot, Shit happens right?, Sick Sam Winchester, Supernatural - Freeform, Vulnerable Dean Winchester, Vulnerable Sam Winchester, and, emeto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 06:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18987211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmmoHasTooManyFandoms/pseuds/AmmoHasTooManyFandoms
Summary: When Sam very suddenly gets sick, and Dean's having a meltdown, Mary steps in to help them. She stuffs up a couple times, but she gets there eventually.





	Mary's Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Just realised I made a couple fart jokes in here and a few lame attempts to keep Cas and Jack out of the way I'm sorry fam it won't happen again I just really wanted Sam and Dean and Mary to have some bonding time after- y'know. Season 14 and all. Not spoiling it but shit went down.

 

The coffee was hot, the toast warm. While Dean cooked the bacon, Cas and Jack sat at the larger dining table, reading lore together- Cas had decided even if Jack was a nephilim and the son of Satan, he could still have some education like a normal human child. Reading lore and writing notes was considered English and History class, calculating how many times Sam snored during a football game compared to the amount of times Dean farted was math and slight science; sometimes Cas made Jack do a scientific investigation into these things. Whatever came out of the investigation had one very solid rule; _don’t tell Sam and Dean_.

 

Mary wandered into the room fully dressed; she stopped by Dean to kiss his cheek and compliment his cooking, before taking a seat at the table with the angel and the nephilim.

“Where’s Sam? I heard him rustling around, but his shoes are still in the hallway.”

Dean shrugged, but Cas poked his head up.

“He seemed… sick last night. When I offered to help him he just bid me goodnight and retired to his room.”

“I heard someone puking last night,” Jack added in a nonchalant tone. Dean froze and everyone’s eyes shot to Jack, who shrugged.

“It may have been someone else, one of the other hunters-“

“-I’m just gonna go check on Sam.”

Dean served the bacon then headed for the hallway, colliding with a strong figure. A glance up told him it was Sam, in the flesh; but it was clear something was wrong. Green at the gills, nose and ears tinted pink with fever and dry, chapped lips were all clear indicators that something was up. Dean took him by the shoulders when he tried to speak, but Sam tried anyway.

“De, De where’s the- I can’t find the-“

“-mom! Grab the bowl we use for salads!”

Dean yelled the few feet down the hallway, which meant everyone got moving. Within seconds Castiel was there to help support Sam’s body, turning to Jack.

“Go to your room and wait for me; we’ll continue lore later.”

Jack did as told and Mary arrived with the bowl just in time for Sam to turn and bury his head into Dean’s shoulder, groaning as he felt his stomach flip.

“De you gotta help me man, you gotta-“

The nickname rolling off Sam’s lips then and there was one Dean hadn’t heard in ages; Sam had only really used it when he was a kid, when things were really bad and he didn’t want to get their dad’s attention. The older Winchester sighed, brushing a hand over the back of Sam’s neck. He nodded at Cas, and the angel sent the gesture back before flying away- he could take a hint. Mary held the bowl, staring with wide eyes as she saw Dean shift to whisper in Sam’s ear to get an understanding of exactly what was going on. Sam’s groaning and whining turned to gagging, and Dean took the bowl from Mary to hold it under Sam’s chin just in time, rubbing his back with his free hand. Sam began to vomit, not even caring he was in a public place, and Dean realised Mary was still there.

“Thanks mom; I got it from here.”

Mary disagreed, waiting until Sam had a decent spell to usher both of her sons into Sam’s bedroom. Sam lay out on the bed almost instinctively, but when Mary went to pull his covers up Dean stopped her, raising an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you-“

“-and why not?” Mary asked with confusion clear in her tone as she pulled the blankets up anyway. Almost immediately Sam began thrashing around, begging to be let out. The bowl from earlier teetered on the edge of the bedside table and Dean grabbed it, removing it from the situation to eliminate the chance of having to clean that up later. He ripped the blankets off Sam, going into comforting older brother mode. He glanced back at Mary with the infamous _I told you so_ look before his focus went back to Sam. Mary blushed, staring at her feet.

Neither of her sons noticed when she left the room.

 

Finally Sam was asleep, curled on to his side in an effort to protect his tender, upset stomach. Dean stood from his spot at the end of the bed, leaving the bowl and a bottle of water for when Sam woke up; just in case. He didn’t bother to feel for the fever he could already tell was very present. Even as a child and through his teenage years, if Sam was really sick then a fever would burn through his entire body; this time was no different. Dean took one last look at his brother then left the room, closing the door just enough that Sam had privacy from the other hunters milling about, but not too much so he could hear if Sam called for him.

 

In the kitchen Mary was stirring a small pot, a smile on her face when she realised Dean was there. He took a seat at the table, groaning with his head falling into his hands.

“The last thing Sammy needed right now was to get this sick.”

“He hasn’t been sleeping well, honey; you know what Sam’s like when he’s got a bee in his bonnet.”

“And you know this, do you?” Dean snapped. The room fell silent, before he sighed.

“Sorry, mom; that was totally uncalled for. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay Dean; you’re just worried about Sam and I understand that.”

Dean hummed, straightening in his seat.

“Whatcha makin’ anyway?”

“Oatmeal. Is that okay for Sam?”

“No… but hey, I’ll eat it.”

Defeat was clear on Mary’s face as she served the oatmeal into a bowl, sliding it over to Dean with the honey and a spoon. He dug in, starving as he hadn’t managed to fill his guts before Sam had spilled his earlier. He looked up about halfway through the bowl to thank his mom but Mary had disappeared. A frown crossed Dean’s features for a split second before he recovered, remembering the mouthful he’d apparently forgotten to swallow.

 

“Dean.”

Cas appeared and Dean jumped slightly from where he’d been looking on his phone, glaring at his friend.

“Cas, what-“

“-it’s Sam. He’s awake, and Mary is on her way to check on him. I know you’re not sure that she can care for him so I thought you should know.”

“Thanks Cas. Where’s Jack?”

“Jack is in his room, testing to see how many push-ups he can do before we have to hear Sam getting sick again.”

Dean couldn’t help it as he laughed, running a hand over his face.

“Right. Okay, well I can tell you if Jack really wants to beat his high score he’s gonna have to be quick; Sam only sleeps until he’s ready to hurl or bawl his eyes out.”

With that Dean stood, heading down the hallway.

 

“Breathe, honey… you’ve got it bad, I’m sorry you’re so sick…”

“M-mom… I need… where’s Dean?”

Mary frowned as she pressed a hand to the back of Sam’s neck, feeling for his fever. She held for a moment, listening as he dry heaved over the bowl. Dean magically appeared and his entire face fell into a sympathetic look for his brother. He took the sick bowl from Sam’s lap, covering his shoulders with a light blanket to avoid more thrashing around. Dean worked quickly; he calmed Sam, got him watching tv quietly and cleaned the bowl out, placing it back on the nightstand. When he was done he collapsed on to the end of Sam’s bed, ruffling his brother’s messy hair.

“I gotcha Sammy, just get some sleep.”

 

“Dean? Can I ask you something?”

Dean put down his notebook, tossing it beside him on his bed when he heard Mary’s voice at his bedroom door. She entered and took a seat at Dean’s desk, nervously shifting.

“Dean, I know this is personal to ask but Sam… does Sam… does Sam not trust me? Does he _hate_ me?”

“No, mom! He doesn’t hate you, what the hell made you think that?”

Dean also pushed the laptop to the side, focusing on what Mary was saying. She frowned, running a hand through her shorter blonde hair.

“Every time I try to help him, protect him, _mother_ him he just pushes me away, or he asks for you. Dean it’s all my fault, I left and I couldn’t be there for you boys-“

“-mom… Sam’s just, y’know, he’s kinda sick at the moment. Whatever he says or does don’t take it personally.”

“It’s not just now, Dean. It’s when we’re hunting, when he has a cut, when he’s got a concussion… I want to help, and I try, but he doesn’t want my help.”

Mary’s eyes were damp with tears and Dean frowned, running a hand through his cropped hair to try and figure out what to say.

“Sam… well, both of us actually, we had it rough growin’ up. We told you most of it, but dad- dad wasn’t exactly sympathetic. He was out to run an army of hunters, not raise two sons. When Sam got sick or he got tired and tried to time out dad was hard on him; sometimes he’d smack his ass red raw, sometimes he’d make Sam clean all the guns. Don’t get me wrong, I got my full share of it too, but Sam… he’s sensitive, and well… when you break his trust it can be hard for you to get it back. He was fifteen or somethin’ when he started shutting dad out, therefore pushing me away too. He’d still come on hunts, still get the job done, but he also put his head down into his studies. Shutting me and dad out meant he had to care for himself. It took me years to get him to let me be in the same room as him when he was vulnerable.”

“I just feel so useless, Dean, he’s just-“

“-mom. He’s just _Sam_. I had to re-earn his trust after all the shit we’ve done to each other over the years, and I imagine he learned his lesson years ago about letting people in quickly.”

Dean sent his mother a small smile, Mary returning the gesture. She sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“I just want to help him, Dean. The more I see you and him together though, how well trained you are in having each other’s backs. Maybe- maybe I should go and see the world, see what it has to offer.”

Dean gaped, jaw almost hitting the floor.

“Mom, I lost you once. Once was enough, I’m not losing you again. We still need you, it’s not obvious but we do- _fuck_ , I need you. Please don’t go.”

Dean’s voice broke in a moment of vulnerability but he cleared his throat, hiding the sniffing he did to stop tears.

“Sam, he- uh, well… he always asks for tea when he’s sick, like the leaves instead of the tea bags? Maybe you could make a pot of peppermint or whatever and just sit with him. You don’t have to always be talking to bond; it’s a start on his trust.”

Dean stopped talking when he heard Sam yelling for him and bristled, before he got off the bed.

“C’mon; he probably just wants company.”

Dean was wrong.

 

“Sam- oh shit, Sammy hey.”

Dean took the half full bowl from Sam, holding his shirt.

“I gotcha dude, I gotcha.”

Samm hiccupped once, swallowing a burp as he paled further. Dean shoved the bowl back under his chin just in time, praying he was just dry heaving. Sam was already very, very sick so he didn’t want to add a tear in the stomach lining to the list.

“Sam, honey, hey.”

Dean froze when he heard Mary’s voice, but was pleasantly surprised when he realised Mary had a hair tie and a cold, wrung-out washcloth. She quickly tied his long hair back, then pulled the top of his shirt down just enough she could rest the cloth on the back of his neck. Sam moaned quietly in relief, sitting back as the nausea finally began to relent. When Mary took him by the shoulder he let his body tiredly curl up against her, feeling his mom kiss his forehead. She glanced up at Dean, whose jaw was dropped.

“Where did you- how did you- wow. The cold washcloth thing? He loves that.”

“Lucky guess; some people call it mother’s instinct. He’d freak out if I put it on his forehead, so I decided his neck was second best.”

She shifted to let Sam lie down properly, both Dean and Mary watching as San rolled on to his side to face away from them. The two awake Winchesters sighed fondly.

“You’re just like your father, Dean, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. You’re rough around the edges but a softie inside; don’t give me that look! But Sam, Sam’s quieter, shyer and he’s gentle. He cares for everyone even when he doesn’t receive that care back. Sam isn’t a Winchester; he’s a Campbell, mainly my mother.”

Mary got off the bed, taking the bowl from Dean.

“I see a lot of your grandmother in Sam.”

A fond look crossed her face, before she gave Dean a squeeze on the chin. As she left Sam’s room she called to her eldest.

“Make sure you wash your hands, Dean; don’t want you getting whatever your brother’s got.”

 

Dean woke with a start in the dead of the night, sitting bolt upright in bed. His chest was heaving but he wasn’t panicking, and he reached for his phone to check the time. The glowing numbers told him it was four am. Why was he awake at four am? He hadn’t been dreaming- Cas could detect if he was having a nightmare no matter the distance between them and was always there to soothe Dean.

With a sigh Dean picked up his dead guy robe and left his room; if he was awake, he could check on Sam.

 

The door to Sam’s room was closed when Dean wandered there, and he lifted his fist to carefully knock. When he got no response he twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open a crack. The room was completely dark and Dean frowned. He stepped inside and located Sam’s bed in the darkness, surprised his feet weren’t hanging out like usual. As he stumbled toward the bed he realised just how much he’d lost his touch since moving into the bunker; as a teenager and even in his young adulthood he’d been a pro at sneaking around Sam. He felt a little weight release from his shoulders as he got close and heard nasally snores coming from somewhere in the bed; Sam was still asleep. Dean felt bad for doing it, considering his hands were probably cold but he knelt down anyway, placing a hand against Sam’s forehead that was clammy with sweat.

“Shit Sammy, you’re burnin’ up again.”

Dean left his brother to get to the light switch, turning on the main overhead light. To Dean’s surprise Sam didn’t even shift to cover his eyes; he just carried on snoring, completely oblivious to the change in the room.

That was when Dean knew he was in trouble.

 

“Cas! Get your feathery ass here right now, it’s Sam! Castiel!”

Dean banged multiple times on Cas’ bedroom door, leaning his head against it when he didn’t get a response.

“Dean? Honey what’s wrong, is Sam okay?”

Mary appeared from her room just across the hallway, robe wrapped around her tightly in a similar way to Dean’s five minutes ago. Dean turned to her, eyes burning with worry.

“Sam’s- Sammy, he’s burnin’ up again but this time it’s worse, and I need Cas’ help to cool him down and fast. Sam and a fever… it’s never a good mix.”

“Dean, Cas isn’t here right now. I can help, though.”

“-what the hell- where the hell- you mean he’s not here? Cas is always-“

“-he took Jack on a quick salt’n’burn. Lower your voice Dean, there are other hunters trying to sleep.”

That did it for Dean, who frowned.

“Shit. Okay, c’mon. We gotta move fast.”

Mary followed Dean back down the hallway toward Sam’s room, her heart racing in her chest. Dean wasn’t like this when he wasn’t worried.

 

Dean opened Sam’s door and his eyes widened in alarm, yelling for his brother.

“Sam!”

Mary pushed in to see what was going on, stopping dead when she saw her son. Sam was seizing, and it was a bad one by the looks of it.

 

Dean was frozen in place, mouth opening and closing multiple times. He was stuck in that one place, unable to say or do anything, so Mary stepped up. If she was going to mother mode at any time, now would be a good idea.

“Dean go get all the ice packs in the freezer and a bucket of ice water. Mostly ice though, his fever is causing him to shut down from the inside out.”

Dean disappeared and Mary focused on Sam. Time to help him out.

 

When Dean returned, laden down by ice packs and the water, he quickly got to work. Mary was standing by Sam’s head, using a cloth to wipe his forehead from sweat. He’d stopped seizing, thankfully, and when Dean approached Mary let him climb on to the bed, putting a hand to Sam’s forehead.

“He’s still on fire,” he murmured. Mary hummed, handing Dean a couple of the ice packs.

“Put them under his arms and on his neck, but make sure it’s not direct contact on his skin; that’ll burn him.”

Dean did as directed and Mary rested a couple on top of Sam’s shirt on his stomach. After a minute or so Sam began to stir and as he opened his eyes his face crumbled into a frown with a deep swallow. He paled and turned his head to the side as vomit dribbled out. Dean grabbed the wash cloth off Sam’s forehead to catch the puke, surprised when Sam pushed against him.

“De-De- Dean…”

“Hey man, just relax. Me and mom gotcha, focus on breathing. You gonna be sick again?”

Sam nodded and Dean helped him to sit up just enough for his upper half to be upright. Mary held the bucket out and Dean placed it on Sam’s lap, earning a deep, low groan from the younger Winchester. His stomach rumbled and he gagged, using Dean as leverage to stop himself falling over.

“Dean… oh my god, this hurts so bad.”

“I know Sammy, I know. You just do what you need to do, I’m right here. I gotcha.”

The puke went from spits to actual vomiting and Mary took Sam by his other shoulder to steady him, massaging her thumb against the muscle. Sam gagged, bringing up another mouthful. He pursed his lips, retching in the back of his throat but trying to hold it in. Dean sighed.

“C’mon man, let it out. It’s better in the long run.”

“M’done, really.”

“Sure about that?”

Dean sent Sam a sceptical look, but Sam just nodded. Mary took the bucket from him, about to leave when Sam snatched it from her, burying his head as more came out. Dean hovered over his brother, eyebrow raised.

“Holy shit Sammy, how the hell do you still have that much left in you?”

 

Dean had almost forgotten how much Sam craved touch when he was sick- not sexual touch, or romantic touch, but a hand to rub his back, a chest to rest on when he’d just about had enough. For a while it had been Jess, then no one because he and Dean weren’t on good enough terms for years. Now Dean completely accepted it, reminded of the last time Sam had been so clingy. He could remember it so vividly, as though it was yesterday; Sam was suffering from a migraine and even Aspirin wasn’t doing anything so Dean had sent John on a salt’n’burn to distract him, sitting beside Sam on his bed only for a moment before Sam rested his head on Dean’s shoulder and fell asleep.

Sam probably wouldn’t, but it was engraved into Dean’s mind forever. Now Sam had his head on his brother’s thigh, snoring, and Dean wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

The eldest Winchester snapped out of it when he heard his mother’s voice talking to him, blinking to focus. Mary’s face appeared in his line of vision, holding his shoulders. Dean swallowed and blinked, just as sound came flooding in.

“-Sam’s going to be okay Dean, he’s sleeping right now and that’s a good thing.”

“-Sammy… he’s… his-the fever- it’s…”

“-I know it’s high Dean but we can work on getting it down. Sam’s really sick.”

Dean shook his head, holding his hand on the back of Sam’s neck. He checked his forehead too just to be sure, but when he got the same answer he let out a breath.

“It’s broken- the fever, it- it broke.”

Mary’s face showed pure relief as her shoulders relaxed and she pressed a kiss to Dean’s temple, gently brushing a hand through Sam’s hair.

 

That night Dean was in the library, reading up on a case he’d heard about through other hunters when he heard footsteps. Figuring it was his mom, or Cas and Jack getting back he focused back on the article he was reading, only for a hand to be clap on his shoulder. He froze; only one person could do that and get away with it.

“Sammy? What the hell are you doing out of bed already?”

He spun, surprised when he took in his little (big) brother. Other than his messy bed hair and pale face, Sam was back to his usual self. Even his smile looked more on the normal side and Dean scoffed.

“Well look at you Sammy. Sit down man; don’t wanna jinx it or something.”

Sam took a seat beside Dean but he glanced around the room, frowning.

“Where’s mom? I heard her coming in and out of my room but I haven’t seen her since she came to take my sheets away.”

“Doin’ laundry. All three of us could do with some fresh clothes after your barf-fest. That and you- uh, you… wet yourself… during your- y’know-“

“-my seizure? Dean I’ve had seizures before. You can talk about it.”

Dean just sighed, and reached to hug his brother. Sam did that weird thing where he rested his head on top of Dean’s (he’s a tall boi), and Dean ruffled his hair further.

“Just glad to see you up and talkin’.”

 

“Mom?”

Mary jumped just as Dean had when she heard Sam’s voice, spinning on her heel to see him. She took in her son, his body that seemed to be healing and not sagging, and the fact he wasn’t puking all over the place. She smiled, and Sam sent her a confused look.

“Mom? You… okay?”

“Oh! Yes, yeah. I’m good. Sorry, I should be asking you that. How you feelin’ honey?”

“I’m good. Tired mainly. I haven’t barfed in hours though so I guess that’s a positive.”

Mary put down the sheets she’d been about to toss in the dryer to feel Sam’s forehead. His fever had stayed broken, and she helped him straighten when she was satisfied.

“Go back to bed Sam, you could do with some sleep.”

Sam chuckled, running a hand through his hair. He went to leave, halfway to the door, when he stopped and faced his mother.

“Thanks for the last couple days, mom. Dean- Dean would never admit it ‘cos he’s an ass, but he needed your help and you stepped up. He- he kind of gets nervous when I get sick, so… thanks.”

Mary sent Sam a smile that was so warm and motherly that it warmed him from the inside out.

“I had an excuse to mother you and Dean; I don’t get those moments very often so I take every chance I get.”

 

 


End file.
